Crying on an icy curb made him feel like a forgotten kitten. His breath came out shaky. His cheeks burned from the wind and snow, though he wasn’t sure when the tears had started. Somewhere between anger and fear and feeling completely disposable.
Then… headlights.
A deep rumbling engine.
Tires crunching to a stop beside him.
Chapter Two
Spencer
The Back Door was a gay bar wedged between a bakery and a gear shop on Big Bear’s main drag. Inside, mismatched leather couches circled a crackling hearth, and tangled strings of red and gold lights blinked overhead. The air mingled with scents of smoke, beer, peppermint schnapps and maybe sugar cookies from the bakery next door.
Spencer lounged in a squeaky red vinyl booth; flannel and boots dusted with snow.
“You’re really here,” Nathan said, shaking his head. “I didn’t think I’d get you off that ranch.”
Spencer laughed and took a sip of his beer. “You bribed me with booze and boys. I’m not that strong.”
Nathan smiled. “Fair. But seriously, it’s good to see you. You look… rugged. Like you wrestled a bear on the way down.”
“Only metaphorically,” Spencer said. “But I had to dig my truck out of a snowbank before I hit the highway.”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t fly?” Nathan asked as he pushed his shoulder-length wavy hair out of his brown eyes.
“I wanted my truck with me.”
“That was a long damn drive when you could have rented a truck.”
“I enjoyed driving.” The truth was Spencer needed the time to transition from conservative Montana to free-loving California. His only fear was that he might not want to return home.
Nathan raised his beer bottle. “To Montana grit.”
They clinked their beers. Around them, the club was in full swing with guys chatting near the fireplace, someone playing pool in the back, and a DJ setting up for later. Nathan’s boy Alfie stood over by the bar, talking to a guy who had bright red hair and was wearing a black leather jacket.
Spencer watched the room for a moment, then turned back to Nathan. “I miss this,” he said. “The music, the noise, the flirting. Hell, even the bad lighting.”
Nathan leaned in. “You miss singing?”
“Every damn day,” Spencer said. “I sing to the horses sometimes. They’re a terrible audience.”
Nathan snorted. “Do you still write too?”
“Bits and pieces. Mostly in my head while I’m fixing fences or hauling hay. But it’s not the same. I miss the stage. I miss you on drums. I miss the way we used to make people feel something.”
Nathan’s smile softened. “You were electric up there. Still are, I bet.”
Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been living like a hermit, and I’m still not out in Montana. I want to meet someone. Someone who doesn’t mind mud and long winters and a guy who talks to his horses.”
Nathan tilted his head. “Are you thinking long-term?”
Spencer nodded. “Yeah. I want someone to come back with me. Not just for the week. For the whole damn ride.”
Nathan raised his eyebrows. “You’re not the only one here hoping for something real. A lot of these guys are tired of the hookup scene.”
Spencer glanced around again. “I feel like I’m in a different world when I come to California. I feel so free and with so much hope. Back home, I’m not living who I really am.”
“But you made a promise to your grandfather. And that’s what’s holding you back from returning to us and the stage?” Nathan never let an opportunity go by to push his agenda for Spencer to return. They both missed each other more than either understood.
